Hidden Visions, Hidden Truth
by velociraptor52
Summary: Harry's having visions. Ones that may kill him. Who will help him?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters.

A/N: This is something I wrote last year, although I'm still working on it. Pleas R & R!

Summary: Harry's having visions that can kill him if not helped, but who will help him?

Hidden Visions, Hidden Truth

Chapter 1

Snape stood on the threshold of his balcony at Snape Manor. Drops of rain came over him at all sides, and he tried his best to remain warm by his heavy black winter cloak. Of course, it was the summertime.

His black eyes that were alert on the shallow lake sitting in front of him were now alert on the sky.

"Where is he, that sluggish owl?" Snape muttered, trying hard not to chatter his teeth. "He should be here by now, unless he crossed paths with an airplane," he laughed feebly at his joke.

Albus Dumbledore had sent an owl explaining that Harry was having horrifying visions of the unpleasant incident, which took place at the end of his fourth year, and that Snape needed to mix up a potion to help him with those visions. Snape, after thoroughly reading the letter, lit a fire and threw the letter into the fire. After a couple of minutes of staring elsewhere, he reached his hands into the fire and tried unsuccessfully to get the letter and read it again. It was burnt to the crisp.

Afterwards, Snape sent an owl to Dumbledore explaining that he didn't want to deal with low sunken, arrogant Potter on his summer vacation. Now he was ready to hear a reply.

He had just about fallen asleep when a loud and shrill hoot from his side woke him up. His eyes automatically opened up and he turned to his right, where an owl was sitting on the floor, holding a letter with its beak. 

"Finally, that crackpot old fool ("Please forgive me Dumbledore," he quickly said later.) replied." He took the letter from the owl's beak, and shooed him away, who, in his turn, gave Snape a sharp nip on the finger.

"Dumb owl," Snape cursed as he unfolded the letter and began reading.

_Dear Snape,_

_ I will not tolerate being spoken to like that, letter or no letter. And don't speak of Harry like he's some sort of cockroach-_

"But he is a cockroach," Snape complained. "One that I'd like to squash."

_ -Harry is not James Potter. He is far apart from looking and acting like James. Why can't you forget the past and resolve to help Harry?_

_ If these visions go on long enough, Harry could die. Then Voldemort, seeking weakness in the wizarding world, will run havoc among us._

_ And don't forget those pesky Deatheaters. And you, being one._

_ Please, Severus, I trust you to help Harry Potter._

_Sincerely,_

_ Albus Dumbledore_

Snape threw the letter down in frustration. Somehow, Albus always finds a way to get him to help Harry. He reread it again, and thought it over for a moment.

"Fine," he said to himself, "I'll help Harry."

Harry was unhappy at the Dursleys' household. Every morning, he would go down to breakfast only to find that nobody saved him any toast. Besides being starved to death, his visions were worse than ever. Every night, he would wake up in a pool of sweat, screaming, only to find that he had woken up. This happened particularly every Wednesday, at midnight, and lasted until six in the morning. Mostly he saw Deatheaters in his dream, but the dream he had last night not only showed the Deatheaters, it also showed Voldemort.

He tried brewing up a Dreamless Sleep potion, but realized that he needed five lacewing flies, six hairs from a unicorn, one crushed snake fang, and a snakes' toxic venom. He tried substituting these ingredients for things around the house, but it only ended up leaving a big hole right in the middle of the rug.

Snape stared disgustedly at the Dursleys' house. It was a muddy brown, with patches of black marks on the side. He couldn't see him living in the house, not even for a million Galleons.

Harry stared blankly at the wall in the cupboard downstairs. His Uncle Vernon moved him back down in the cupboard ever since his Cousin Dudley lost enough weight that it was a celebration, a happy moment for his Aunt Petunia. In fact, they were so happy, they bought Dudley another Playstation, only so he could throw it out the window when he found out that his friend couldn't come over because he was moving away.

Snape sighed as he headed towards the entrance door. _Wherever Harry was_-

_ Wherever Dumbledore is_, Harry thought.

_I hope he's safe_, Snape thought.

_I hope he sent help_, Harry thought. A door banged loudly from the outside of his cupboard. He woke up from his thoughts and started to pant loudly. "In here! Help me, I'm in here!" he shouted. There was a silent pause. "It's probably no one. Must be the wind or-or Uncle Vernon." He closed his eyes and sat back up against the wall.

Snape looked around. The house was empty. But he was sure someone shouted for help. "Hello?" He circled the room cautiously.

Harry heard someone again. This time he recognized that voice. "Hello? Who's there?"

This time Snape heard it again. "Whoever you are, keep talking," he instructed.

"I'm in here! Walk straight and turn to your right! I'm in the cupboard!" Harry's voice was hoarse; he doubted anyone could hear him. But someone did. The lock was rattling and the door flew opened. There, Harry saw, stood Snape. "P-Professor Snape?" What was he doing in here? Harry thought.

"Harry?" Snape hinted a kind of amazement in his own voice, but amazement of what? He suddenly remembered that he was Snape, and playing mean was his game. "Potter, oh, how I wanted to see you like this, imagined you like this, hidden in a cupboard, probably starving to death, probably sulking and crying for help, probably trying to use magic to get out of this forsaken cupboard." Harry had dark circles under his eyes, he was thinner than usual, and his hair was messier than ever, it smelled like he hadn't taken a bath since he got home from Hogwarts, and he was clutching his bent wand in his right hand. Big bruises on his arm were visible and for once in his life, Snape felt sorry for Harry. He shook off the feeling, and realized that he didn't mean half of what he said.

Harry grinned slightly. "Two out of three right. The Dursleys' are starving me to death, and I tried to use magic to get out of this cupboard. And don't even think about trying to find the Dursley's, because they went on vacation and left me here. Locked up, like some animal at a zoo. I've-I've been feeling a bit off for a while. I think it's the flu or something. But the Dursley's ignored my hacking coughs and thought it was just the cold, so they thought it'd pass. That's when the visions began." Harry felt tears coming. He hurriedly shook off the feeling and looked up at Snape. 

Snape was quite taken aback that Harry was crying. His once lively green eyes were now filled with tears.

"They-they-when I got home for the summer, they were worse than ever. They beat me for things I did, my fault or not. If something happened, like the bacon burnt, Uncle Vernon would hit me. And-and--" He tried holding back tears. "If Dudley was upset or something, they would blame it on me too. Uncle Vernon would kick me and lock me under this cupboard for a week-possibly two-and not let me out, except to go to the bathroom, and didn't feed me at all." He was sobbing wildly.

Snape tried to sort out what Harry just said. Harry's relatives? Beat him? And here he was, trying to be brave for me, Snape thought. And I always thought that he was pampered, fed, and a spoiled rotten little brat. But, here he was, starved, with baggy clothes, and those bruises. This was child abuse!

"Why hasn't the Ministry of Magic sent you any letters explaining the use of magic?" Snape asked.

"Uncle Vernon boarded up the house and painted it so no owls would recognize it. And he sold my owl to the pet shop so I couldn't send letters to my friends. Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and Sirius. Are they all right? I have to know." Harry sobbed.

Snape was quite silent for a moment. Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived, turned into Harry Potter, the Abused Boy who Lived. Now he knew why Dumbledore was worried.

Snape was about to leave when Harry gasped. He turned around, only to be confronted by Harry. "You aren't going to leave me here, were you? Where are you going?"

Snape found Harry rather interesting. He grew a few inches since last year, so he was about the same height as Snape. He was about to make his attempt to leave when Harry gasped again. "For your information, Potter, I was about to leave for Hogwarts to-to-to tell Dumbledore about your ordeal here." Snape almost spat out the words "to return to my normal life and not deal with you", but somehow, he couldn't say that.

"Can I come?" Harry asked abruptly. "I mean, if it's okay with you."

"Potter, school starts in no less than twenty days. Why come with me if you can go to the Weasleys' or your godfather's place?" Snape asked irritably. He didn't want to watch the Potter boy all day, it'll be as boring, not to mention horrifying, as watching grass grow.

Harry's green eyes looked at Snape pathetically. Why, oh, why does it have to be this way? Snape thought.

"Okay, Potter, but do try and keep up. Where's your trunk?"

"I'll get it." He ran upstairs while Snape waited for a couple of minutes. Sure enough, there was some banging and Harry was hauling his trunk down the stairs. "Thanks, Professor."

"Just so you know, I'm not doing this for you. If you don't come back to Hogwarts, I'll have no points to take off of you. And when we get back, you're going to take a shower so I won't have to smell your stink, get your school stuff ready, and stay out of my way."

They were outside and heading up a hill to a rubber boot that strangely looked familiar to the portkey that transferred him to the Quidditch World Cup.

"Um, I still need to go shopping at Diagon Alley, and I need my owl."

"The ministry will take care of that tomorrow. Let's just get back to Hogwarts and get this over with." They touched the portkey, which sent them back to Hogwarts.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I still don't own the Harry Potter characters.

A/N: Thanks for all the nice reviews!  Here's another chapter!  And, Snape will lighten up later as the story continues, so he won't be mean forever.

Hidden Visions, Hidden Truth

Chapter 2

Harry tossed and turned in the bed.  He was in the Hospital Room with Snape watching over him.  Snape, reading a book The Most Useful Ways to Brew a Killing Potion, tried to block out the sound of Harry's groans.  However, it didn't work.

Snape set the book down by his side and watched Harry closely.  Tears were streaming down his face and the pillows were soaked.  Snape got up and walked slowly to Harry.  He stopped himself though, one foot away from Harry's bed.  Harry started screaming, shouting, like someone was killing him, torturing him, in his dream.

"Please have mercy on me, Voldemort!  Please, please, no, no, don't do it.  Not the Crucio!  No!" He was yelling so loudly that the dead were rolling over in their graves.

Snape, covering his ears with both hands, shouted through Harry's yells.  "Harry!  Harry!  Potter!"  Realizing what he had to do, he freed one ear, and with one hand, shook Harry's shoulder.

Harry sat up, feeling the touch of a hand on his shoulder, and shouted, which echoed through out the castle.  Snape could tell that he was afraid of something.

"Potter, it's just me," Snape said impatiently.

Harry was drenched in sweat.  He was shaking slightly.  Harry's trembling green eyes looked up at Snape.  "Professor Snape?" Harry sighed.  "I thought you were Uncle Vernon."

Snape stood still, not knowing what to do.  He shook his head and grinned slightly.  "You thought I was your uncle?"  He folded his arms across his chest.  "Why?" he asked.

"I don't want to go into it.  Let's just say he did some horrible things to me, besides pounding on me."

Snape knew where this was leading.  He inhaled sharply, and made a motion with his hand for Harry to stop talking.  "I think I understand the rest, Potter."

Harry was relieved.  He didn't really feel like telling Snape anyway.  "Thanks," he said in a small, quiet voice.  And, for the first time since Harry ever came to Hogwarts, he saw Snape smile.

Snape, grinning broadly, walked out of the Hospital Room and down the corridor, only to be confronted by Dumbledore.  "Severus, I trust that you are taking great care of Harry?"

Snape's grinning vanished slightly.  "I never knew what went on with him during summer vacation." He sighed.  "Now I know why you wanted me to check on him at his house."

"Yes.  I heard from his friends that he wasn't responding to their letters."

"Dumbledore, they pounded on him," Snape put plainly.

Dumbledore gasped.  "No!"

"Yes, and if it wasn't for me, then he'd be dead right about now.  He was locked up, in this cramped cupboard under the stairs.  They literally starved him—"

Dumbledore held up his hand to stop Snape from talking further.  "I am afraid I have some bad news."

To Be Continued…

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter.  The next one will be longer, I promise.  And, another thing I'm sorry for: the extreme lack of updating the story.  We've just gotten into testing this week at school, and lots of homework has been getting in my way.  One more thing: sorry for the cliffhanger!  I just couldn't resist adding it!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update, and I know that Snape is calling Harry by his first name. Snape's kind of slipping in and out of kindness. When he feels nice, he calls Harry by his first name, but when he feels not so kind, he calls Harry by his last name. Well, you get the picture. Anyway, here's another chapter…enjoy!

Oh, Sirius and/or Remus fans out there: you may not enjoy this chapter quite so much…

Hidden Visions, Hidden Truth: Chapter 3

Snape stared in disbelief. What could possibly make this day any worse? "What?"

There was increasingly fore longed silence. "It seems that Voldemort paid Remus and Sirius a visit. Remus sent an owl to me at the last minute, but it was no use. Sirius tried getting out of the house in Animagi form, but sadly—"

Snape held up his hand. "Don't tell me…"

"Remus and Sirius are dead."

Snape quietly nodded. Remus and Sirius? His two life long rivals were—dead? What was the point of telling Harry? He knew if he did tell Harry, he would just do something dramatic. "Now where will Harry go to? Whom will he live with?" 

Dumbledore smiled sheepishly. "You, see, Snape, that's where you come in. Remus told me in his letter that if anything should happen to him and Sirius, that you were appointed as a second godfather."

Snape was hit hard by this comment. "Surely, you don't expect me to watch over this boy. He's a menace. A threat to society. He gives wizards a bad name."

Dumbledore stood there transfixed upon what Snape had said. "You," he began, "treat him like some sort of cockroach that crawled into your lunch. I think I've stated this before, but Harry is not James Potter, nor acts and looks like him." His mouth thinned. "What if Lily heard what you said about her own flesh and blood?" He stormed off, while Snape thought about what Dunmbledore just said.

Harry woke up to the sound of footsteps echoing in the corridor, faintly getting closer and closer. He opened his eyes part way and tried to see who was walking, but everything was too blurry. He reached for his glasses, and slid them onto his face while sitting up. He looked around the hospital room and searched for any signs of life.

"Hello!" he called out. Silence filled the air, followed by the buzz of a fly. It was quiet. Too quiet. He swung his legs over the sheets and got up out of bed. His legs felt like some one had just used the Jelly-Legs curse on him.

The door banged open and hit the wall, causing a portrait of a nurse to fall down and hit the floor, breaking into huge pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Harry half-expected Uncle Vernon, the other part of him half-expected a Professor.

"Potter," a cold voice filled the room. "I see that you are out of bed. Ten points off Gryffindor."

Harry realized that it was Professor Snape and quickly got back into bed. "H—hello, Professor Snape. Did you go shopping at Diagon Alley for me?" He asked with interest as he noticed a few bags Snape was carrying.

Snape entered the room, pausing to look at Harry. "Indeed, I did. You're really taking Divination class?" He asked as he sat the bags down on the floor.

Harry felt his face go red. "Um…yeah, I am. Professor Trelawny keeps on predicting my death."

"Ah, that's her welcoming of Harry Potter? I think I should've used that on you as well."

Harry fumbled around with his bed sheets. "Um…did you---I mean, have you heard from Sirius yet?"

Snape looked down at the ground. _Well, better now than never_, he thought worriedly. "The Dark Lord, he paid Remus and Sirius a visit and well---"

"They're dead," Harry guessed. 

Snape nodded. "They appointed me as a second godfather." 

Harry's mind went blank. His whole world fell apart just at the thought of it, and he closed his eyes. "No," he muttered under his breath. "This can't be happening."

Snape could hear what Harry was muttering, and he felt sorry for him. At first, he felt like telling Harry that everything would be okay, and that he would watch over him, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. "Harry…listen."  Snape surprised even himself as he spoke the two words.  Never as he ever called Potter Harry.

Harry shook his head. "No, no more listening. Everything you say is a lie…Remus and Sirius aren't dead." Then, he added forcefully, "They aren't."

"They are, and you have to accept the facts of the truth," Snape said bitterly. He wasn't going to waste his time trying to convince Harry to accept the truth.

"I'll die before I ever accept the truth, and I will." 

"You can't run from the truth, Potter, and you know that."

"No, I can run from the truth." But even Harry knew, it was real. Sirius and Remus were dead, and he felt even more grieved thinking about it. "What's going to happen to me?" He said, his voice uneasy. He opened his eyes, and looked to Snape. "Now that I can't go back to my Uncle's house, and now that Sirius and Remus is gone, where am I going to live?"

Snape inhaled sharply. He hated thinking about the thought of it, but it bothered him even more seeing Harry like this. "Dumbledore has given me strict orders that you live with me, at least until we can find a permanent home for you."

"Can't I live here?" Harry asked as it crossed his mind. "Can't I live with Ron, or Hermoine?"

"I'm afraid not, Potter. Hogwarts isn't a save enough place for you, and I'm sure Mrs. Weasley can't afford to pay for more books in the near future."

Harry frowned. "I have my own money," he commented, but Snape ignored him.

"These visions you're having are like a tracking device. Each time you have the visions, the Dark Lord can sense where you are, and he'll find you," Snape explained in a low voice. "The only safe place where you can live is my house. The Dark Lord can't get past his own Deatheaters' houses."

"But aren't you a former Deatheater?" Harry asked, frowning even more.

Snape sighed, and glared at Harry. "Potter, might I explain what he does to a former Deatheater when he finds out that one of them is hiding the Boy-Who-Lived, you would just be more terrified."

"So, he can enter your house?" Harry asked, growing slightly worried at the fact that Voldemort could be able to enter Snape's house.

"That's what the Protection Spell is used for, Potter."

"But isn't a Protection Spell used to protect someone?"

Snape looked at Harry, disbelieving what he just heard. "Potter, what spell did I cast on the house?"

"A Protection Spell," Harry answered.

"So, why am I bringing you to my house?"

"Because then I'll be inside the house, which has a Protection Spell cast on it, and the house will be protected, along with the people who are inside it…" Harry gasped. "I think I get it."

Snape grinned slightly. "Good, because we're leaving first thing tomorrow morning."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I'll be leaving for Lake Tahoe on June 29 for a family reunion, and won't get back until the 6th of July, so this will be the last update until I get back, unless my Mom let's me use her laptop.  I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thanks for the reviews!

Hidden Visions, Hidden Truth: Chapter 4 

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     Harry couldn't sleep at all that night.  All he could think about was Sirius and Remus, with the occasional appearance of his friends.  He wondered if his friends knew about the tragic death of Sirius and Remus.  _They must know…the Daily Prophet is always up-to-date with news from the wizarding world.  _Then he wondered if his friends knew about where he was going to live…who he was going to live with.  _I don't think the Daily Prophet posts news like that, _he thought with a shudder.  Even if Hermione did trap that Rita Skeeter at the end of the 4th year, he couldn't help thinking about Rita breaking free, and writing nasty rumor stories about him.  He could just imagine what Rita would write if she found he was going to live at Snape's house…that wasn't a pleasant thought for him.  Then he imagined stepping on Rita when she's in beetle form…that cheered him up mostly.

     It was about 6:30 when Snape entered, and told him to get ready to leave.  

     "Why do we have to leave so early?" Harry asked as he got out of bed.  

     "If we want to get there by nightfall, chances are that it will be better to leave now," Snape explained, and started to leave when Harry asked him something.

     "Just answer me this question: can Voldemort kill me in my dreams?  Can my dreams go both way: can they be a tracking device, and a portal so Voldemort can enter my dreams?"  Harry waited eagerly for the answer, but he didn't get any answer.

     "Potter, you don't want to know that" was all Snape could manage.  In fact, he had talked to Dumbledore, and Dumbledore stated that each time Harry had a dream, a "vision", that Voldemort could enter, and take some of Harry's life away.  For some strange reason, though, Voldemort can't kill Harry in the dreams, just make him weaker and weaker until there's almost no life in him, and no strength for Harry to kill Voldemort.  For the first time in his life, Snape was deeply confused.

     Harry was almost ready when 7:00 rolled around.  Snape, growing impatient by the minute, decided to get the brooms ready.  "Where's your broom, Potter?" He asked.

     "I thought we were going by Floo powder or something," Harry muttered as he got his Firebolt.  "Here," he said, showing Snape his broom.

     "You'd think I'd risk the fact that the Dark Lord himself might be using Floo powder, too, out there somewhere.  If we happened to use Floo the same time he does, we might cross paths," Snape answered as he took Harry's broom.

     "Sir, what about my owl?" Harry asked earnestly.

     "I've taken care of that, Potter.  You precious owl should be at my house right now," Snape answered.

     "And—and what's with the books?"  Harry asked again.  He and Snape left the Hospital Room, and were now walking down the stairs of the Entrance Hall.  "I mean, school doesn't start until the 1st of September.  We'll get back in time for school."

     "Potter, chances are that you may not get out as much during summer.  In case that you should, in any way, not be able to return in time when school starts, you will be home schooled by me."

     Harry accidentally dropped his trunk when he heard what Snape said.  The trunk pummeled down the staircase, leaving a long echo that stretched throughout the castle.  "Sorry," Harry apologized hurriedly as he scrambled to get his suitcase.  "I thought I saw something," he lied, and continued down the stairs with his suitcase.

     Once Harry and Snape were outside, Harry realized how much he was going to miss Hogwarts.  His school was home to him.  Snape's house was foreign and doubted that he would feel right away comfortable at Snape's house.

     "So, if we're getting there by brooms, how am I going to carry my trunk along with it?  It's too heavy," Harry announced as he set his trunk down on the ground.

     "You'll enchant your luggage.  That's simple, even for you, isn't it, Potter?"

     Harry sighed.  "Just give me my broom back," he demanded.  Snape gave the broom back to Harry, and retrieved his own broom, which was lying on the ground next to Snape's feet.

     "_Wingardium leviosa_!" Harry shouted, his wand out and pointed at the trunk.  "There." He grinned, and slipped his wand into his pocket.  His trunk was now floating above the ground eerily, as Harry wondered how to make it follow him.  "Um, do you have any rope?" 

     Snape looked back at Harry, and sneered.

     Harry took in Snape's sneer, and defined it that he would have to get his own rope.  "Fine," he muttered, looking to the ground.  Getting out his wand, he chanted a spell, and rope came flying out of the tip of his wand, coiling on the ground like a brown snake.  Hurriedly, he tied one end of the rope to his trunk, and the other to the back of his broom.  "Okay, there," he said to himself as he put his wand away again, and got on his broom.

     "So where is your house?" Harry asked Snape as they both simultaneously rose up in the air.

     His question went unanswered.

     Harry figured that they must have been flying for at least five hours, because the sun was high up in the sky, almost burning the back of Harry's neck.  He desperately wished for some sunscreen as they passed a large group of trees below.  They were far out of Muggle territory, Snape warning him, though, whenever they neared a city.  A few times during the journey Harry looked back over his shoulder to see if his trunk was still secure, imagining what would happen if the rope unraveled from the trunk and floated through a city full of curious Muggles.

     "Are we there yet?" Harry thought aloud.   Again, his question was unanswered.

     After ten minutes, Snape warned him that they were nearing Muggle territory again.  They rose above the clouds again, Harry desperately wishing that they could land.

     "Explain to me about these dreams you have," Snape asked unexpectedly.

     Harry's thoughts were penetrated as he looked to Snape.  "Why do you want to know?" He asked.  "Why do you suddenly care about me?" he added bitterly.

     "Unless you explain to me about the dreams, Potter, you may never be cured of them," Snape replied with a tone halfway beyond Harry's.

     "Well," Harry sighed, and looked down at the ground, except the ground, the Earth, was covered by the white-foam clouds.  "Every dream starts off the same way: I appear there…in the graveyard where he was killed.  The Death Eaters are always there, surrounding me, along with Wormtail and Voldemort.  And he's always there, standing besides me.  I try to warn him…but somehow…" Harry shook his head, his eyes watering.  "I warn him, but it's still too late.  As he falls to the ground, Voldemort stands there, laughing.  All I can think if it will be me next time.  Voldemort haunts my dreams…he's there every time I close my eyes…it's like…it's like he's sucking the life out of me."   

     "Has the Dark Lord ever used the Crutatious curse on you?" 

     Bewilderment fell upon Harry's face, and Snape added, "In your dream."

     "No…" Harry sighed.  "Well…a couple times he has.  The way Voldemort uses the curse on me in my dream feels so real."

     "And have you ever succeeded in saving Diggory?"  Harry didn't answer Snape's question, leaving Snape to guess that, in Harry's dream, he had never succeeded in saving Cedric.

     At least two minutes passed before Harry asked, "Are we there yet?"


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Wow, sorry about the lack of updating this story.  But, I have not given up on it, and never will.  It seems that summer has gotten me to forget about my stories, and I constantly need to remind myself to write the next chapter of the story and to be loyal to the readers.  That, and we just got two kittens, who constantly play a lot, and jump up on my desk, only to walk on my keyboard the next minute!  Anyway, enough from me, here's the next chapter!

Hidden Visions, Hidden Truth: Chapter 5

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     Harry appeared in the graveyard again, this time utterly aware of what was going to happen.  Cedric Diggory was standing next to him, suggesting that it was best to have their wands out and ready in case something happened.  Harry looked in the distance ahead of him: darkness and nothing more.  His dreams always started out the same: he would appear in the graveyard, the same graveyard where Cedric was killed, and no matter what he did, no matter what spell he used, he could not stop Wormtail from murdering Cedric.

_     "Kill the spare," a haunting voice filled the void of Harry's thoughts.  A blinding green light rushed past Harry, the heat of the spell barely scathing his arm.  He turned around just in time to see Cedric crumble to the ground at his feet, his face, which once was full of life, now empty._

_     "No," Harry muttered as he dropped to his knees.  He failed…once again…and he would fail for as long as he had these dreams.  The guilt of not saving Cedric clung onto him, and he dropped his wand, not caring about anything else in the world except that he failed._

_     "Crucio!" The same haunting voice that ordered Wormtail to kill the spare appeared again.  Pain writhed through Harry's body as he shouted out.  He closed his eyes shut, only knowing that the end will come soon…_

     _"We're nearly there."_

     Snape's voice broke into Harry's thoughts of his dream.  Harry had been staring at the round tip of his broom, thinking about his dream; not knowing how many hours had passed.  He looked up to find that there were no more clouds in sight, and that beneath him was a vast land of grass.

     "Are we out of Muggle territory?" Harry asked as he stared absent-mindedly at the wave of grass going up and down hills.

     "Far out of Muggle territory," Snape answered.  "We should be arriving at my house in ten to fifteen minutes."

     At that answer, Harry sighed a breath of relief.  He was starting to feel uncomfortable upon his broomstick, wanting to stretch his legs a bit.  "I didn't know you lived so far away," Harry said as he looked at his watch that had once belonged to Dudley, now in Harry's possession because it was missing the minute arm.

     Snape didn't reply.

     Harry could hardly conceal his excitement as, ten minutes later, they arrived at a large estate.  There was a manor located on one side, a Quidditch pitch on the other side, and a large lake, which separated the both.

     "Is this your house?" Harry asked with amazement. 

     "Yes, it is," replied Snape coldly.  "I find it great to relive myself of stress by practicing Quidditch alone.  I used to be a Beater when I was at Hogwarts.  Sometimes, during matches of Slytherin v. Gryffindor, I always tried to knock your father off his broomstick."

     Harry didn't want to hear anymore…

     "…I wanted to show everybody how _great _and _talented _he was at Quidditch, when all he ever did was get on the team because he was popular.  Us Slytherin's worked hard to earn a spot on the team…once I knocked Potter off his broomstick, everyone realized he was not the talented Quidditch boy they took him for…he was a pathetic excuse for a Quidditch player.  Why Black and Lupin stood by him, I have no idea…probably their hunger for popularity deprived them so much they decided to join Potter's posse.  Every time Potter did something to almost get expelled, but he didn't even come close, only because he was popular and an arrogant little brat.  Oh, how I wish he did get expelled back then.  Then he would have left, and, furthermore, never returned." 

     Harry felt anger rising inside of him, swelling, ready to be released…anytime now…

     "How Potter ever got married to that filthy mudblood, I don't know…"

     Filthy mudblood?  Harry's anger was overwhelming him to curse Snape into oblivion.  He couldn't take it anymore…Snape continued speaking, however.  Harry decided it had gone too far.

     "Shut up," Harry said in a quiet, quivering voice that was used as gently could, but full of hatred and anger toward Snape. 

     Snape stopped talking abruptly.  Guilt rose up inside Harry, along with the feeling of an oncoming shout from Snape.

     "What did you say to me, Potter?" Snape's voice was hard and cold, the kind of voice to be recognized before a shout from the Potion's professor.

     "I said," Harry began, choosing his words carefully, "to shut up." Harry left no time for Snape to start shouting, and immediately went into why he said that.  "You have no right to make fun of my dad.  You wished that he left and never returned.  Well, congratulations, you got your wish.  Except he didn't get expelled, did he?  He's dead…both my mom and dad, so…your wish is granted.  Your life is complete, while my life is without my parents."

     Snape thought about what Harry had said for a minute, and felt slightly guilty.  He had grown up with parents, which was true for most times.  Other times they just fought until Snape got fed up with the arguing and finally ran away at age 19 to join the Death Eaters.  It was a dark past for Snape, but possibly even darker for Harry, not even growing up with two loving parents.

     Snape pulled himself out of the past and said in a quiet, but seething, voice, "Potter, I would be saddened by what you just said, but I'm quite angered by what you had first said.  You, being the pupil, will not tell a teacher, especially me, to shut up." 

     Harry ignored him, and looked at the horizon.  The sun was beginning to sink behind the faraway mountains, covering the land in a golden color that seemed to shine upon the mansion, reflecting off the windows and casting an image on the dark colored lake.

     "We'll land here," Snape said suddenly.

     They landed upon the front lawn of the mansion, the lake pounding waves up on grass.  Harry craned his neck up to see the entire mansion.  It was at least three stories—possibly four stories—high.  A large balcony set itself out from the last story, while the entrance carried two wide oaken doors, with a stained glass window on one.

     "Why is your house so large?" Harry asked with amazement.

     Snape didn't answer him.  Instead, he just swept past Harry and up the five steps to the oaken doors.  "Come along, Potter," he commanded as he opened the doors and went inside.  Harry followed immediately and gasped once he was inside.  The room, which he figured must be the living room, stretched twice more than the size of his dormitory.  He was in complete awe.  There was a slick, marble staircase in the corner.  Right underneath it was a door, while both on his left and right side was another door.  Two small bookcases lined the walls, with two red satin chairs and two couches in the middle of the room, and two small fireplaces at the end.

     "Kitchen's off to your right, while the library is on your left.  The door at the end is my laboratory, where I will be contemplating to either make a potion to help you fight those dreams, or not.  You are not allowed down there," Snape finished with ease as he lit up one of the fireplaces with just a flick of his wand.

     "Where will I sleep?" Harry asked as he watched the flames dance in the fireplace.

     Snape sighed and sat down in one of the red satin chairs.  "You will be sleeping two floors up from here.  You are also not allowed to go up to the fourth floor."

     "Why?" Harry asked as he began up the stairs.

     "That is for personal reasons, Potter," Snape answered simply.

     Harry was halfway up the staircase when he realized that he had left his broom outside, along with his trunk.

     "Sir, what about my stuff?" He asked.

     Snape sighed again, head in his hands.  "I will send the house-elf to fetch them."

     Harry could sense that Snape was beginning to get agitated, so he decided to not ask any more questions, and to find his room.

     Harry wandered a bit on the second floor before continuing to the third floor.  He at least saw a dozen or so talking portraits lining one side of the hallway.  As he passed by one talking portrait, the portrait shouted out, "Harry Potter!" which caused a chain reaction.  All the other portraits started shouting out Harry's name also, so he just decided that he had to get out of there before Snape heard the commotion.

     Harry was almost out of breath once he reached the third floor.  Thankfully, there were no portraits on the third floor.  But since there was a great lack of portraits, there were many doors.  He had no idea where his room was located.

     "Hello!" Harry shouted out to the dark, lonely corridor.  He was hoping for some response that could guide him to his room, but none came.  "Hello!" He shouted again.  His voice was carried down the corridor, bouncing off every wall.  Again, he waited for a response…waited…and waited until he heard something.  He listened harder, searching for the noise he heard.  Suddenly, he heard it again.  It was a hoot, an owl call.  It sounded strangely familiar, and Harry figured that it must be Hedwig.

     "Hedwig!" Harry breathed a sigh of relief as Hedwig neared him and landed on his outstretched arm.  "Oh, Hedwig, I missed you," Harry whispered to the owl, petting her.  Hedwig hooted, and flew off again.  "Hedwig, wait!" Harry shouted after his owl, and followed her.  

     He ran straight down the corridor, whizzing past doors so fast that they looked like blurs.  He panted, wondering how long the corridor was.  Hedwig finally perched above a doorway.  Harry looked back, and saw nothing except darkness.

     "This is my room?" he asked Hedwig.  His owl responded with only a hoot, and what looked like a nod.  Harry grinned.  "Thanks," he said, and opened the door to reveal a room filled with light.  It was an enormous room, and looked just like the living room, except for a big bed located off to one side, and only one door, besides the entrance door, located off to the side of where the big bed was.  The room was filled with red—everything was red.  The bed, the two chairs, the fireplace was lined with red, and the walls were a splash of red and gold.  Harry's eyes sparkled as he looked over the room again.  "Wow," he said in amazement.  His trunk and Firebolt were laid out on the bed, along with a new pair of pajamas, trimmed with red and gold.  "Wow," he said again as he walked over to his bed and sat on it.  Hedwig hooted in agreement, as she flew to her red and gold cage.

     Harry stretched out on his bed, and looked up at the ceiling.  "Boy," he sighed, "this is wonderful." He yawned, a bit tired and hungry, so he decided to go downstairs to get some food.

     Unfortunately, he had to pass those same portraits on the second floor, which hadn't forgotten who he was, and they all started to shout out his name again.

     The living room was completely empty.  The fire in the fireplace was beginning to flicker out.  Harry, wondering if stained glass windows were also alive, as the witch in the stained glass window was following his every move, decided to go to the kitchen right away without any questioning to the stained glass witch.

     Half the kitchen was the dining room.  A long elegant table sat in the middle of the kitchen, completed with assortments of plates, silverware, napkins, and a vase of flowers that marked the middle of the table.  Harry went to the fridge, wondering if someone had just eaten at the table, and pulled out an apple.  Just as he neared the door, he heard the doorbell ring.  Harry stopped in his tracks, clueless as who could be ringing the doorbell at night.  He heard footsteps nearing, the door unlocking and opening, and a greeting from the Potions professor of, "Good evening, Lucius."

     _Lucius!  Lucius Malfoy!  _Harry groaned, despite thinking that someone could have heard him.

     "Hello, Severus," Lucius greeted back with bitterness deep in his throat.  "I'm glad that you're back so soon.  I have important news.  Anyway, I trust that you have heard the notice from the Dark Lord."

     "About Potter?  Yes, I have." 

     Harry eagerly waited for a reply from Lucius, or from Snape.

     "Please, do come in," Snape offered.

     Each footstep vibrated the floor beneath Harry.  He heard the door close, and the crackling of the fire starting again.

     "How will this plan work out?" Snape asked.  "I didn't really read all of the notice, just a paragraph or two."

     Lucius sighed, and said, "We will kidnap Potter from his relatives house.  We bring him to the Dark Lord, and there, we will take turns torturing him with the Crutacious curse, until the final curse comes in.  You will be there, won't you?" Lucius asked as an afterthought.

     "What gives you the right to think that I won't be there?" Snape asked.

     "Nothing, except that the past four years, you were turning soft.  You hardly showed up at any meetings at all."

     About a minute passed before Snape said in a hushed voice, "I am not going soft.  I will be there, also.  You think I'm going to miss the day when Potter finally dies.  I will not."

     "Okay, then, see you there then," Lucius said.  Harry figured that Lucius was getting ready to leave.  The door opened.  Snape and Lucius said their good-byes, and Harry waited for the door to close.  However, it didn't.  Instead, Lucius' voice wafted through the air.  "Just answer me this question.  Why didn't you show up at any of the meetings the last four years?"

     Harry breathed in quickly.  So quickly, in fact, that he was having a fit of coughs.  Harry tried the best he could to cough quietly.

     "Because Dumbledore was getting suspicious," Snape answered and closed the door.

     Harry waited for Snape to leave the living room before going back to his room.  There was a strange empty feeling inside him, like a feeling that you can't trust anyone anymore.  Harry thought about that while he ate his apple.  How could Snape do that?  Offer him to live at his house one minute and then betray him the next.  _And Dumbledore.  Does he know that Snape is still a Death Eater?  That he's evil?  _Once Harry finished his apple and had thrown it away, he went back upstairs.  The portraits on the second floor shouted out his name again, but Harry made no move to stop their shouting.

     On the third floor, Hedwig was flying around.  He didn't even acknowledge her as she gave a hoot.  Instead, he just went to his room, climbed onto his bed, threw the trunk, broomstick, and pajamas on the floor, put his glasses on the bedside table, and went to sleep, clothes still on and the lights still on.

A/N: Okay!  Hope you liked this chapter!  I'll try to get the next one out as soon as possible.  Hmm…maybe reviews would help me to get chapters out quickly…


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